Dead And Gone
by nightwalker21492
Summary: During the war Hermione went M.I.A. Everyone thought she was dead and after a few years everyone moved on. Including Ron. But what happens when she resurfaces, seemingly unharmed?
1. Whispers

**Dead and Gone**

**During the war, Hermione went M.I.A. Everyone thought she was dead and after a few years, everyone moved on. Including Ron. But what happens when she resurfaces, seemingly unharmed?**

_**A/N: First chapter is very short. The later chapters I believe are going to be longer unless you guys like the short chapters. Please R & R. I'm not too sure about this story atm, so let me know if you want me to continue.**_

**Chapter One: Whispers**

_George made his way towards Fred's grave. Usually he only visited on Sundays but today was different. Today he heard whispering. Something was drawing him to the grave. He stumbled through the foggy morning listening to the voices, but he couldn't understand what they were saying. The voice seemed to tug at the string of his heart, pulling him towards the grave he visited every weekend for three years. Opening the old wooden gate, George made his way over the rough dirt paths, being careful not to trip. The whispering continued and he placed a hand on his wand. Someone was standing in front of Fred's grave. No one visited Fred but him. Not even Ron or Ginny. Not Bill or Charlie or Percy. Not even his parents. Walking closer, the figure became more clear through the fog. _

_His attempt to approach in silence failed when he stepped on a twig and it gave an unusually loud snap, drawing the attention of the unknown mourner. George would have turned tail and ran if he had been a lesser man, but the chocolate eyes that watched him through blood soaked skin, only seemed to entice him and he drew closer. He came to stand a few feet away from the stranger and watched as they turned back to the grave. Kneeling down, they placed a rose on the soft earth. Turning, they walked past George, never making eye contact again. George watched as they walked away, disappearing into the fog. Turning back to Fred's grave, he walked over and bent down. He picked up the rose and stared at it. It was perfect. A beautiful deep crimson color, he found himself unable to look away. _

_Suddenly there was a loud blood curtailing scream and George spun around to face the wall of fog the stranger had walked through. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he spun back around towards Fred's headstone and jumped in fright as he saw the stranger standing on the other side. They cocked their head to the side and stared at him through dark eyes. They seemed familiar. Looking closer, George's eyes widened. He was about to say something when the stranger's head flew back towards the dark night sky and a pained scream erupted from their mouth. George watched in horror as blood stains began to appear on their shirt. It soaked through, dripping from the now seemingly mutilated body and they screamed again as a large gash appeared on their collarbone. The ground behind Fred's grave turned red as blood poured from the screaming body. As sudden as it had started, the stranger stopped screaming. They looked at George as blood rained from the deep gashes on their body. George watched, too afraid to run, as they walked around Fred's headstone and stopped directly in front of him. They placed two cold and bloodied hands on his shoulders and stood up on their toes. George could feel their breath on his skin as they leaned in towards his ear. It was the voice that whispered to him, drawing him towards Fred's grave. It was faint, almost inaudible and hurried, so hurried that it sounded like one word, but it was there and he heard it clear as day. _

_"Save me, George."_

George shot up in his bed, drenched in sweat. Jumping from bed, he pulled on some clothes and rushed from his flat towards the cemetery. Running through the city of graves, he finally came to Fred's. He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw someone standing in front of Fred's grave. They bent down and placed a crimson rose on the grass. He took a step forward, stepping on a twig. He looked down as it cracked, afraid to look up. Afraid to see the secret mourner. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and looked up. Taking another deep breath, trying to prepare himself, he opened his eyes and stared at the figure standing beside Fred's grave. They were just how they were in the dream, save for the blood stained skin and clothes. There was a large scar on their collarbone, exactly where the large gash had appeared in the dream. Their chocolate eyes met his and they simply starred at each other before he finally broke the silence.

"Hermione."


	2. Nightmares

**Dead and Gone**

**During the war, Hermione went M.I.A. Everyone thought she was dead and after a few years, everyone moved on. Including Ron. But what happens when she resurfaces, seemingly unharmed?**

**Chapter Two: Nightmares**

"Where have you been?" George asked as he pour some tea into Hermione's cup and then into his own and sat down.

Hermione stirred the tea. "I'm not really sure." She said and took a sip of tea.

George watched her from across the table. Something didn't seem right. He considered bringing up his dream, but thought it might upset her if it was true. Taking a sip of his tea, he realized that if what happened to her in his dream had actually happened to her, then he didn't want to know. He was just happy to see that she was alive again. If anything had happened, he would ask later. Not now. Now he needed to figure out why she didn't seem quite right. Something was off about her, he just couldn't put his finger on it. She seemed different. _**Of course she seems different. God only knows what she's been through the past three years.**_ Replied the voice in his head.

"I can put you in Fred's old room. Just be sure not to touch anything until I get in there and clean it up some."

Hermione took a sip of tea. "It's that messy?"

George shook his head. "No, not that. Just some of the stuff in there could be dangerous. He was always messing around in there." George laughed.

Hermione put her cup down and leaned back in her chair. George watched her hands. They were steady. Calm. He furrowed his brow a bit when he saw scars that circled both wrists. Breaking his train of thought, he realized that Hermione had said something. He looked at her and tried to think of what it was. A small smirk began to form on her face.

"You didn't hear a word I just said, did you?"

George leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his tea. "No. No, I did not."

Hermione laughed and George thought it seemed a bit forced. "I said thank you for letting me stay here until I find my own place." George nodded. "Suppose I should go talk to Ron tomorrow."

George shifted in his seat. "Um, Hermione?" She looked up from starring at her teacup. "You…don't still have feelings for him, do you?"

Hermione swallowed. "I'm not sure. Why?" she said carefully.

George watched her and licked his lips nervously. "He got married almost three years ago."

"Three…three years ago? But the war was three years ago."

George nodded. He hated having to be the one who told her. "A few months after the war he married Lavender Brown. They've got a baby on the way."

Hermione stood up as anger rushed through her veins. She ran her hands over her face and began to pace back and forth. Stopping, she looked at George. "I was missing only a few months, and he goes and bloody gets married! Did he even bloody look for me? Or even bloody care!"

"Of course he cared, Hermione. We all cared! We looked for you for over a year." George said, now standing.

Hermione shook her head. "I never should have even come back." she said and walked towards the door.

"Where are you going?"

"I don't know. But I obviously don't belong here anymore." She said as the door closed behind her.

George swore and followed her out of his flat and down the steps into his shop. The bell above the door rang as Hermione walked out and he followed her. Finally catching up to her, he grabbed her arm and spun her around.

"What the hell do you mean you don't belong here anymore?"

"It's pretty obvious, George. Everyone has moved on with their lives. If I come back now, everything will get messed up. Harry and Ginny finally have a life together. Your store is doing great. Your parents rebuilt the Burrow. Ron…well its pretty clear that Ron doesn't love me anymore. And as much as I hate him for that, I can't just waltz back into everyone's lives like nothing had bloody happened. I'm sorry George, but I can't do that." She said and started to walk away.

"Is that what you're afraid of? That they won't care about you?" Hermione stopped walking. "Hermione, you will ALWAYS belong here. We've always cared about you. That's not going to stop. Ever."

George sighed and starred at the spot Hermione had just been standing. Sometimes he hated the fact that he taught her how to apperate. Walking back to his flat, he left the teacups where they sat on the table and walked down the hall. He pulled off his clothes until he was in just his boxers and climbed in under the blanket. Suddenly very tired, sleep overtook him easily and he told himself that she just needed time to calm down and she would be back in the morning.

_George woke with a start when he heard mumbling. He climbed out of bed and walked down the hall to Fred's old bedroom. Peering in, he didn't see Hermione and continued down the hall to the kitchen. The teacups still sat on the table, untouched. There was a sound of muffled screams and he turned around. _

_In the middle of the living room was a large table made of pieces of metal and steel. Tied to the with wires, and gag in her mouth, was Hermione. Beside the table was a smaller table full of knives, needles, bottles of different colored liquids, medicine bottles, hammers, and wires. Out of the shadows of the living room, came someone he didn't recognize. He watched in horror as he walked over to Hermione and placed a hand on her neck and forced her to look at him. He looked at the table and picked up one of the knives. Holding it up, it glinted in the moonlight shining in through the window. Looking back down at her, he gave a sadistic smile. Walking around the table he watched her struggle, the wires cutting into her wrists. _

_As George took a step forward to try to help, he found himself chained to the wall. All he could do was watch as the man placed the knife on Hermione's skin and began to cut her. She screamed into the gag and the man smiled. George pulled against the chains, yelling at the man to leave her alone. He ignored George and went over to the table again. He picked up one of the bottles with clear liquid in it. Uncapping it, he poured it over the fresh wound and Hermione screamed. The man cocked his head to the side. George heard him say something about salt water and he closed his eyes as the man picked up one of the needles and a medicine bottle. Taking some into the syringe, he smiled at her. When George didn't hear her screaming, he opened his eyes. He saw the man lean in a bit, a serious look on his face. _

"_Are you ready to give up? Just one nod and you could be free of the pain. One nod and you'll be in my position. Free of pain. Full of so much power." Hermione glared daggers at him, her body shaking. He took the gag off her and waited._

"_Go to hell."_

_The man smirked and stabbed her in the stomach with the syringe. Hermione's scream almost made George deaf in the one ear that he did have. The man inject the liquid and pain radiated throughout Hermione's body and she screamed again. Leaving the syringe sticking in her stomach, he grabbed another knife and poured the salt water on it. Cutting through her skin, he smiled at her screams._

"_Darling, we're already there."_


	3. Research

**Dead and Gone**

**During the war, Hermione went M.I.A. Everyone thought she was dead and after a few years, everyone moved on. Including Ron. But what happens when she resurfaces, seemingly unharmed?**

**Chapter Three: Research**

George starred off into space as he sat at the table, a cup of tea sitting in front of him. He stirred it absentmindedly, unable to get the nightmare from his mind. He prayed to God that it hadn't happened to Hermione, but he had a horrid feeling in his gut that it had. After all, he dreamt of her in the graveyard and that's where he had found her. What if this dream was true too? What if that's what happened to her while she was missing for those three years? And what did he mean by they were already in Hell? Was she actually in Hell for three years? His thoughts were broken, when the door opened and Hermione walked in with a tired face. His stomach twisted when he saw the scars on her collarbone and wrists.

"I'm sorry about last night." She said.

George nodded. "It's alright. I think I understand now." He said and looked down at his tea.

"What do you mean?"

George looked at her and licked his lips. He could have swore he heard some slur in her voice. Shaking his head, he looked back down at his tea. "Nothing." He stood up and placed his cup in the sink and watched her. She seemed to be swaying gently. "Are you okay?"

Hermione nodded as she got a glass out of the cabinet and filled it with water. "I'm fine." She said.

George furrowed his brow. With her standing right beside him now, he could smell it as if were in a bar. She had been drinking. A lot. He looked at her eyes. They were all glazed over and she had dark circles beneath them. He gently poked her shoulder and she stumbled backwards a bit. He quickly grabbed her so she wouldn't fall and looked down at her.

"How much have you had to drink?" he asked, a touch of anger in his voice.

Hermione seemed to be so out of it, that she hadn't even noticed she almost fell when he poked her. She ran a hand through her hair. "I…I don't know." She said, holding her head.

George sighed and wrapped an arm around her. Helping her to Fred's old room, he led her over to the bed. Laying down, Hermione snuggled into the pillows. George tilted his head to the side as part of her shirt rode up, revealing teeth marks on her hip. He kneeled down beside the bed and traced them with his fingers.

"Where did you get these, Hermione?"

Without opening her eyes, Hermione replied. "Had sex last night."

George looked at her to say something but she was already sleeping. George sighed and stood up. Leaving a note saying he'd be back soon, he apperated to the Burrow. Once there, he said hello to his parents and went directly upstairs and knocked on Ginny and Harry's door. When she didn't answer, he knocked again, more urgently.

"Ginny open the door! I have to talk to you!"

He heard muffled swearing, then footsteps and the door unlocking. "What?" she asked, her hair still messy from sleeping.

"Hermione's alive."

* * *

"How much did she drink?" Ginny asked, starring down at Hermione.

"No idea. But she had sex." George said. Ginny gave him a look. "She told me." he said, shrugging his shoulders.

Ginny laughed. "Yeah, she was defiantly drunk then. She never would have said that if she were sober."

"I'm still trying to get a grip on how she's alive." Said Harry. "She's been missing for three years."

"I don't think she's been missing." Harry and Ginny looked at George. "I think she's been dead."

"She couldn't have been dead, George." Harry said. "Or else she wouldn't be here."

Ginny looked up at Harry. "You died and came back. And no one knows why. Not even you." Harry agreed, silently nodding his head.

"I'm telling you, she's been dead. I had a dream about her being at Fred's grave. When I woke up, I went straight there and she was there. And the scars she has, they're exactly where I saw the gashes in the dreams. There's no way ANYONE would have been able to survive torture like that and live. I think she was in Hell." George said.

"Why would she be in Hell if she died then? She's helped save the Wizarding World." Harry said.

"I haven't figured that out yet." George said as the three of them walked out of the bedroom and into the kitchen.

"What else happened in the dreams, George? You said that she was being hurt." Ginny said.

George nodded and went on to tell them what had happened in his dreams and how every scar he'd seen so far had coincided with the cuts and gashes he had seen in his dreams. Deciding, but not liking, that George's dreams were true, they decided to do some research. Ginny apperated to the Burrow and to Hermione's old room, where she found a large collection of books on almost every subject you could imagine and think of. Placing her hand on a large pile, she apperated back to George's flat.

"Dear lord, where did you get all those books?" George asked, seeing the large pile beside his little sister.

"Hermione's old bedroom at the Burrow. Mum and dad couldn't bring themselves to pack anything up so they left it how it was." Ginny said. "I'll be right back, there's another stack."

Once Ginny returned, they began researching. For what, they didn't really know. After a few hours, Harry looked up from a large book on his lap. "Shouldn't we tell Ron that Hermione is alive?"

"I suppose." Ginny said, not looking up from her book. Suddenly she reached out and began hitting George on the arm, trying to get his attention, still not looking away from her book.

"What? Why are you hitting me?" George asked.

"I think I know what happened to Hermione." Ginny looked up at Harry and George. "She sold her soul."

**A/N: If you watch Supernatural, then this will seem very familiar. And it should because that's where I got the idea. lol. Don't forget to REVIEW. :)**


	4. Taking Care of Hermione

**Dead and Gone**

**During the war, Hermione went M.I.A. Everyone thought she was dead and after a few years, everyone moved on. Including Ron. But what happens when she resurfaces, seemingly unharmed?**

**Chapter Four: Taking Care of Hermione**

"Sold her soul? You can't sell your soul." George said.

Ginny nodded. "Yes you can. You have to make a deal with a demon at a crossroads. You can sell it for anything."

"Why would she do that?" Harry asked. Ginny stared at Harry, waiting for him to put the pieces together. He looked up at George and Ginny once he noticed they were watching him. "What?"

"Think about it Harry." George started.

"Hermione sold her soul to a demon. You died. Then all of a sudden Hermione goes missing and you're alive again."

Harry looked from George to Ginny and shook his head. Standing up, he ran a hand through his hair and began to pace. "No. No, she wouldn't do that." Harry looked at them, beginning to panic. "She wouldn't do that!"

"It's pretty obvious that she did, Harry." George said.

Harry's jaw tightened and he took a few deep breaths to try to calm his anger. Finding that it wasn't working, he stormed down the hallway towards Hermione's room. He had to know for certain. George and Ginny followed him, but he was already across the bedroom and to her bed. He grabbed Hermione's shoulders and shook her awake. At first she fought against him, trying to free herself from his grasp, but then she saw who it was that was holding her and she stopped struggling. An uneasy feeling grew in her stomach as his eyes filled with anger. He shook her a bit.

"Why'd you do it?" He asked, almost yelling.

"Harry, let her go!" Ginny said as she and George tried to pull him away.

When Hermione didn't answer, he shook her more violently. "Did you sell your bloody soul to fucking save me!" he yelled.

"Harry stop!" Ginny yelled as Harry shook her again.

Frightened, Hermione shoved Harry away as Ginny and George pulled and the three of them landed in a pile on the floor. Harry swore and stormed out of the room, leaving Ginny and George alone in the room. Ginny followed Harry out into the living room and George listened as they argued. George sighed and turned to look at the now empty bed. He sighed again. He really hated that he taught her how to apperate.

****

**

* * *

**

Hermione sat Indian style in front of the polished stone. George watched as she took a drink from a bottle that appeared to be fire whiskey. She gave a small hiccup and George couldn't help the small smile that tugged at his lips. He walked over and sat down beside her. They sat in silence for what seemed like hours, the only sound being the sloshing of the fire whiskey and the small hiccups emerging from Hermione's lips. She held the bottle out to George, who took it from her shaking hand and took a sip.

"I've been having dreams." George said, taking another sip then handing the bottle back to Hermione. "About you…" George looked over at her. She continued to stare at Fred's headstone. "The first time I dreamt, I was coming to visit him and you were here. I didn't know it was you until I got a better look. Your face was covered in blood. You left a rose on his grave and walked away. Then I heard screaming." He said, still watching her.

Hermione took a long gulp of the fire whiskey.

"It was you. Then you started bleeding. A lot." Hermione glanced at him through the corner of her eye. "After a few minutes you stopped screaming and you told me to save you." Hermione took another drink. "That was the same night I found you here."

"Just a dream." she said.

"No, it wasn't. What do you want me to save you from, Hermione?"

Hermione stood up and began walking away. "I don't need to be saved. There's nothing wrong with me."

"Now why don't I believe you?" He asked, standing up and following her through the graveyard.

He watched her stumbled down the dirt path. "Dunno. But there's nothing wrong with me." she slurred and walked into a bush causing her to lose her balance and fall to the ground. "You wanna help me?" She said, holding a hand to her head. "Make the ground stop running from my feet so I can walk properly."

George sighed and spooned her up in his arms. Tired, she let her head fall against his shoulder and he apperated them back to his flat. He heard a mumbled 'thank you' as he walked down the hall. He deposited her on his bed, deciding that Fred's old room was too dangerous for her in her drunken state, and went to kitchen for a damp cloth. Returning with a small bowl of warm water and washcloth, he began to gently wipe away the dirt from her face. He attempted to ignore the fact that she was watching him the entire time, but after a few moments, he sighed.

"What is it?" He asked, dunking the washcloth in the bowl of water and ringing it out.

"It's hot in here." she mumbled and began tugging at her clothes.

George looked up and his eyes widened. "No, no, no. Keep your clothes on."

At that, Hermione's face shifted into a serious pout. Looking at her jeans and heavy sweater that she'd been wearing since he found her the night before, he sighed. He dropped the washcloth in the bowl and went to his drawers. Grabbing a pair of his boxers and a tee shirt, he turned around to hand them to her. His breath caught in his throat when he saw that she had already pulled off her sweater, leaving her in only her shoes, jeans and tank top that was hiding beneath the long sleeved wool. His eyes ran over the scars that covered her arms and chest. She sat up and reached towards her feet. Struggling to pull her shoes off, she only succeeded in falling off the bed. George held in a laugh, but his smile disappeared when she sat up straight, leaning against the bed, her lip quivering. Thinking she was about to cry, he kneeled down beside her, brushing some hair out of her face. He really hoped she didn't cry. He hated when girls cried. Scooping her up again, he placed her back on the bed and waited until she laid down. She waited lazily as George untied her shoes and pulled them off one at a time, then dropped them on the floor. Leaving her socks on, he moved up closer to her head and worried his lip.

"I'm not trying anything, alright? Just helping you so you don't hurt yourself. Okay?" He said, making sure she understood that he wasn't trying to take advantage of her before he continued.

Hermione nodded, her eyes fluttering closed and George could tell that she was attempting to keep them open. His hands hovered over the button and zipper of her jeans and he looked at her to make sure she wasn't going to have an emotional breakdown. She gave a small nod telling him it was okay, and he began to take off her jeans. He pulled them gently over her legs and dropped them on the floor, beside her shoes. He closed his eyes, seeing the scars that covered her legs. He heard her move on the bed and he opened his eyes to see that she was now sitting up and had her knees pulled up to her chest and she attempted to hide her legs with her arms.

"Hermione…" he started, but she refused to look at him, mumbling something about being ugly. George shook his head. "No. No, Hermione, you're not ugly. They're just scars."

Hermione hid her face in her knees. "They're gross." She mumbled and George heard her sniff as she began to cry.

Moving to sit beside her, George wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a hug. "No they're not. They're just reminders of how strong you are, Hermione." He said, running a hand through her hair.

Once she had calmed down, George helped her pull on the pair of boxers. Slipping his fingers beneath the hem of her tank top, he told her to sit up. After she continued to lay down and stare at him, he assured her that he wasn't trying to take advantage of her and obliged. Sitting up, and holder her arms above her head, George gently slipped the tank top up over her head and dropped it on the ground with her jeans. As soon as George took her shirt off, she fell back into the pillows, tired from even the slightest effort. Despite the multiple scars, George shifted uncomfortably as his pants tightened and quickly grabbed the tee-shirt he had pulled out.

"Hermione you need to sit up." He said. Noticing that her eyes were closed, he got a bit nervous. "Hermione…" he said again.

When she didn't respond, he reached out and touched two fingers to her pulse point. Sighing in relief when he felt a steady heartbeat, he awkwardly wrapped his arms around her torso and held her against him in order to keep her sitting up. She slumped against him, making him groan when she snuggled closer and he felt her breath on his neck. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, trying to control himself. When he opened them, he struggled to quickly pull the tee-shirt over her head and arms. At last, Hermione was dressed again and George relaxed a bit. Picking up the dirty clothes on the floor, he looked around for her sweater. Seeing it on the bed, he reached over his sleeping house guest, hoping not to wake her. He was almost to the door with the arms full of laundry when he heard her mumble something.

Turning around, he stared at her. "What did you say, 'Mione?"

She struggled to and keep her eyes open, as sleep weighed heavily on her. "30 years…I was in Hell for 30 years…"

George furrowed his brow. "Hermione, you're only 21." He said.

Hermione shook her head lightly. "10 to 1." She whispered.

"10 to 1?"

Hermione nodded again. "10 years in Hell to every 1 year here."

George swallowed the lump in his throat. She'd been tortured for 30 years. No wonder she had a drinking problem. Dropping the laundry on the floor beside the door, he walked back over to Hermione and sat down on the bed. "Then my dreams about you being tortured were true. That happened to you?"

Hermione nodded for a third time. George noticed tears forming in her eyes and he pulled her into a hug. Wrapping her arms around his torso, Hermione rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes.

"I'm not strong, George." she slurred, the Fire Whiskey still effecting her speech.

"Yes you are, Hermione."

He felt her shake her head. "No…no, I'm not. I gave in." she whispered.

"Gave in? What do you mean?" He asked, looking down at her.

Her eyes stayed closed as she spoke. "Every day, for 25 years, told me that he would stop if agreed to torture others. And every day for 25 years I told him no. But I…" Hermione shook her head and her voice broke. "I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't and I…I said yes. He took me off the table and I tortured souls. For 5 years, I tortured souls…" Her voice trailed off again.

"It's okay, Hermione. No one would have been able to hold out as long as you did. You didn't have a choice." George whispered into her hair.

"I could have said no!" she said, almost yelling. George held her tighter until she relaxed again, against his chest. He felt her shake her head again. "You don't understand…"

"What don't I understand, Hermione?"

"I liked it." She began to shake as the sobs rolled through her body. "I…I _enjoyed _it. For 5 years, I tortured souls and I had _fun…_"

**A/N: Again, I took this idea from Supernatural. I hope you guys liked this chapter. Don't forget to REVIEW! I REALLY wanna know what you guys thought about this chapter. I'm working on the 5th chapter right now. Hopefully I'll be updating soon. **


	5. Empty

**Dead and Gone**

**During the war, Hermione went M.I.A. Everyone thought she was dead and after a few years, everyone moved on. Including Ron. But what happens when she resurfaces, seemingly unharmed?**

**Chapter Five: Empty**

Once Hermione had finally fallen asleep, George silently untangled himself from her and laid her back down on the bed. Grabbing a blanket from the end of the bed, he pulled it up to cover her. Kneeling down beside the bed, he ran a gentle hand through her hair. He could see pain written across her normally delicate features. Leaning forward, he placed a soft kiss to her forehead, then grabbed the dirty laundry from the floor and went to do laundry.

After hanging Hermione's clothes to dry, George went to the kitchen to make some tea. He found his mind wandering back to Hermione laying in her knickers and bra in bed. In _his _bed. The tea kettle whistled, pulling him from his thoughts and he shook his head. He couldn't think of her like that. Unfortunately, it wasn't his brain he was thinking with. Shifting uncomfortably, he set an empty tea cup and the kettle of hot tea on a wooden breakfast tray and walked back down the hall to his room. After placing the tray on the nightstand for Hermione, he noticed that her breathing had become rapid. Her head twisted from side to side and a whimper escaped her lips.

_Hermione watched as two men strapped someone onto the table she once occupied. She stared down at them with hallow eyes. Picking up one of the knives, she turned to them, a smile tugging at her lips when they began screaming into the gag. Taking the gag off, she placed the tip of the knife at the corner of his mouth. "Turn that frown upside down, honey." She said and pulled the knife through the man's skin from the corner of his mouth to his ear then repeated the process with the other side. Blood poured from the man's face and a smile tugged at her lips. Placing the knife down on the small metal table, she picked up a small torch and walked down the table to the man's feet. Turning it on, she stared at him as the fire burned his skin. The man screamed, forcing the skin on his face to rip apart…_

"Hermione! Hermione wake up!" George yelled over Hermione's screaming.

Hermione shot up in bed, covered in sweat. It took a moment for her to realize where she was and that George was sitting beside her. Throwing her arms around him, she sobbed into his neck. George wrapped his arms around her, pulling her onto his lap. Whispering soothing words, he ran a hand over her hair as she clutched to the front of his shirt as if her life depended on it.

"Shhhh, it's alright, Hermione. It's okay. You're safe."

* * *

"Did she tell you what she was dreaming of?" Ginny asked.

"No. She's just been laying in bed all day since it happened." George said starring into the fire. He shook his head. "There's something seriously wrong with her, Ginny. It's like…" George shook his head again.

"Like what?"

"It's like she's got no emotion except remorse. And even then, it isn't normal remorse."

"What do you mean, no emotion?" Harry asked.

George swallowed. "Every feeling is forced. Every smile. Every laugh. And her remorse…its more like fear than feeling sorry."

"Maybe we should get a psychic or an empath to talk to her. See if they can figure out what's wrong with her." Ginny suggested.

"Maybe." George said, not really listening.

"There are a few empaths working at The Ministry. I'll see if any of them will help." Said Harry.

George nodded absentmindedly and stood up. "Where are you going?" Ginny asked as she watched her brother walked across the room.

"To check on Hermione. Get an empath here as soon as you can." George said and walked down the hall.

* * *

"She's in here." Harry said, walking down the hallway to George's bedroom.

"I thought she was dead." said the small blonde, a distant look in her eyes.

"She was in Hell." Harry knocked on the bedroom door and poked his head in. "Empath is here."

George waved them in and furrowed his brow when he saw who the empath was. "Luna?"

Luna smiled and practically floated over to where Hermione was laying. She sat down on the bed and tilted her head to the side, her smile disappearing. "Well this is interesting." She said as she stared down at Hermione's sleeping face.

"What? What is it?" George asked.

"She seems…cold." Luna's eyes searched Hermione's face. Reaching out, she placed a hand on Hermione's stomach. Luna's face became, what George could only describe as, troubled.

"What is it, Luna? Do you sense anything?" Harry asked.

Luna shook her head and stood up, backing away from the bed, her eyes still focused on Hermione. "How long was she in Hell?"

"Uh, 3 years, but time is different down there." George said.

Luna nodded. Hermione's eyes fluttered open. It took her a moment to realized that she was in George's room and not Fred's. Sitting up, she looked at the three of them.

"Why are they here?" Hermione asked, referring to Harry and Luna.

"They came to help figure out what's wrong with you." George said.

Hermione stood up and walked past them. "There's nothing wrong with me." She said as she made her way to the kitchen.

"Yes there is. Luna, tell her." George said as the three of them followed her.

Hermione reached up into one of the cabinets and pulled down a bottle of fire whiskey. Pouring herself a glass, she turned to them, leaning against the counter. "Nightmares, that's all they are."

"You're empty." Luna tilted her head. "You can't fill it can you? Not with food or drink. Not even with sex."

Hermione took a sip. "You're so full of crap."

"You can smirk and joke and lie to your friends, lie to yourself but no to me. I can see inside you Hermione. I can see how broken you are; how defeated. You can't win and you know it. But you just keep fighting. Just…keep going through the motions. You have nightmares because you miss what you were. You miss the power it gave you. And you pretend that it scares you but it doesn't because you just don't care anymore. And you don't care anymore because inside, you're already dead."

**A/N: I took most of what Luna said from Supernatural. I saw the episode online and the words seemed to fit just so perfectly. Let me know what you guys think. :)**


	6. Placing The Blame

**Dead and Gone**

**During the war, Hermione went M.I.A. Everyone thought she was dead and after a few years, everyone moved on. Including Ron. But what happens when she resurfaces, seemingly unharmed?**

**Chapter Six: Placing The Blame**

Hermione starred at the three of them, tears in her eyes. Shaking, she set her glass of fire whiskey down. She shook her head, the tears falling from her eyes. "That's not true. You have no idea what I went through, Luna…"

Luna shook her head, a dazed smile still sitting on her lips. "Don't try the pity act, Hermione. I can see right through you. You're empty inside. Those tears…they're not real."

Hermione's head fell, her hair covering her face. Sniffing, she looked up, her look of sorrow twisted into a dark seriousness. She gave a soft chuckle as she wiped the tears from her eyes. She smirked at Luna. "You're good." She said, and finished off what was in her glass, then refilled it and took a sip. "You're really good." Her smiled vanished and her eyes darkened. "To bad I'm better."

With one wave of her hand, Luna, Harry and George were sent backwards into a wall. The instantly reached for their wands but found that they were gone. They looked up at Hermione, who was holding them in her hand. She dropped them in the sink behind her and with another wave of her hand, the three of them were pinned against the wall. Walking towards them, she looked at George.

"You couldn't just leave me alone, could you?"

"What are you talking about? All I did was give you a place to stay."

"No..no, George, you didn't." she said, her jaw tightening. "I told you I was fine. That there was nothing wrong with me. But that wasn't good enough for you, was it? No. You just HAD to know what was going on. So what do you do? You bring some bloody empath here. Did you really think I would take this well?" She asked, stepping closer, pulling out her wand and pressing the tip against his chest.

"It wasn't George's idea!" Hermione's eyes drifted over to Harry. "It was mine."

Hermione scoffed. "Of course it was. The boy who lived." Hermione tilted her head to the side. "You always have to be the hero, don't you? Always gotta try and save the day." Her voice was lined with venom as she mocked him.

Harry's eyes were hard. "What happened to you Hermione?"

Hermione slammed her fist against the wall beside his head. "What happened to me? _What happened to me?_" Hermione spat, her faces just centimeters from Harry's. "I was in _Hell, _Harry. You have no idea what that does to someone." She said, her voice slow and calm and Harry found himself the multiple times Snape had threatened him.

"Now that's not really our fault, now is it Hermione?" Harry mentally slapped himself.

As soon as the words had exited his mouth, Hermione brought her fist across his jaw. When he looked back at her, if someone had asked him, he wouldn't have been able to even describe the amount of fear and worry he felt when he looked into her eyes. Luna had been right. She was completely empty. And broken. And he knew right then and there that the Hermione he knew was gone. Maybe not for good, but at the moment, there was no hope of her showing.

"No, I guess it isn't. Won't stop me from blaming you though." she said, a small smirk forming on her face.

Harry's eyes wandered past her and focused on a pair of red heads that had just appeared in the living room. He had to keep her distracted until they were ready.

"If it isn't my fault, why are you still going to blame me? It was your choice to sell your soul, not mine."

If Harry hadn't known better, he could have sworn he saw hurt flood her face and her eyes seemed to soften. He could have swore it was the Hermione he knew. The pain was evident in her now soft, uncertain voice and what she said next felt like a knife in his heart. "You stopped looking. You just…stopped."

Hermione spun around as a floor board creaked and raised her wand, but it was too late. Ginny was faster. "Stupefy!"

* * *

"So she's been in hell?" Ron said, watching Hermione, who was now laying on Fred's old bed.

"Yeah. It did some serious damage to her." Harry said. "Emotional and physical." Harry added when Ron gave him a confused look.

Ron and Harry rejoined Ginny, George and Luna in the living room. The sat, scattered through the room for a few minutes before Ron spoke up. "Is this…is this our fault? Did we do this to her?"

Luna shook her head. "No. She was the one who chose to sell her soul. We didn't make her."

"What are we gonna do?" Ginny asked, starring into the fire with watery eyes.

Harry shook his head. "I don't know. But one things for sure," Harry looked down the hall to Fred's closed door. "that isn't Hermione in there."

Ron looked at Harry. "If it isn't Hermione, then who is it?"

Harry shook his head again. "I'm not sure, but the Hermione we know is gone."

George, who was standing beside the fireplace, his elbow on the mantel and a drink in his hand hadn't said anything and Ginny looked at him, worried for her brother. He starred at the floor, his hair hiding his eyes. He swallowed the lump in his throat and shook the fire whiskey around in his glass.

"George?"

"We need to save her." He mumbled.

Luna looked at him. "There's a chance she can't be saved, George."

Everyone stood in silence, letting the reality that Hermione may not be coming back, sink in. They jumped and Luna and Ginny let out small yelps when George threw his glass of fire whiskey against the wall.

"George…" Ginny started, but George ignored her.

His fists tightened at his sides at he watched the amber liquid run down the wall. Ginny tried again, but George threw everything off of the mantel, sending the contents at the same wall that was now stained with alcohol. Deciding to keep her mouth shut this time, she watched as George grabbed his cloak and wand and walked out of the flat, slamming the door closed behind him.

* * *

"I need to save her, Fred." George whispered as he starred at the polished stone. "I promised her I would take care of her…I can't let her down again." He said, remembering the night before the final battle.

"_George?"_

_George looked up from the fire to see Hermione standing in the door way. "What are you doing up?"_

"_Couldn't sleep." She said and sat down in one of the arm chairs. George nodded. "I'm scarred." She said a few moments later._

_George looked over at her. Her eyes were red, telling him that she had been crying. She seemed to be shaking, even in the warmth of the fire and she had a look of sorrow and fear that he had never seen on her before. The sight of her made his heart ache. Standing up, George walked over to her and sat on the arm of her chair and pulled her into a hug. Shaking, Hermione wrapped her arms around his torso and buried her face in his chest. _

"_I don't want to die, George…"_

_George tightened his arms around her. "You're not going to. You're strong. You're smart." Hermione shook as she let out a sob. "You're a fighter, Hermione. A lot of people are going to die, but you're not going to be one of them."_

"_You don't know that."_

"_Yes I do. Look at me." He pushed her away slightly, gripping her by her shoulders. "You're not going to die. I'll make sure of that." _

_Hermione shook her head. "I can't ask you to take care of me, George."_

"_You didn't. Okay? You didn't have to. I…I was going to do this after the war. You know incase something did happen. Knowing now would just make it harder."_

"_George what are you talking about?"_

_George licked his lips. "I love you, Hermione."_

_Hermione smiled. "Well, I love you too, George."_

_George stood up and ran a hand through his hair. "No. Not like that." George turned and fell to his knees in front of her. "I'm IN love with you, Hermione. I have been since your 5__th__ year. And I swear, Hermione, I'm going to take care of you. Whether you love me back or not. No matter what…"_

George opened his eyes and pulled his cloak around him tighter. Sniffing, he failed to keep the tears from falling. Taking a deep breath, he hoped that the others were gone, and apperated back to his flat. He had to save her.


	7. No Matter What

**Dead and Gone**

**During the war, Hermione went M.I.A. Everyone thought she was dead and after a few years, everyone moved on. Including Ron. But what happens when she resurfaces, seemingly unharmed?**

**A/N: This is a short chapter. The next one will hopefully be longer. Hope you guys like it and don't forget to review! :)**

**Chapter Seven: No Matter What**

Hermione sat up and held a hand to her head. Frantically looking around, she realized that she was in Fred's room. Getting up and going to the door, she found it locked. She searched for her wand, and found that they had taken it. How had they gotten her? She searched her brain, trying to figure out what went wrong. Then she remembered. Ginny. She fisted her hands, her knuckles turning white. Standing away from the door, her attempt of wandless magic resulted in her being sent flying backwards into the wall. _Protection spells. _She thought. _No point in trying to the window._ She said to herself. _They'll have done the entire room. _

She ran her hands through her hair and closed her eyes. They were going to pay for this. They couldn't keep her caged up like some animal. They'd see that soon enough. Opening her eyes, she looked around. The room was small and seemed to be getting smaller with each second. Closing her eyes again, she took a deep breath.

"Breathe…just breathe." She whispered to herself as she sat down on the bed, her hands in her hair and her head down.

* * *

George was about to open the door when he heard Hermione talking. _Who is she talking to? _he asked himself. She sounded as if she were trying to calm someone down. Maybe she was claustrophobic. He waited to see if she would continue to talk. When all he heard was silence, he held his wand tight in his hand and opened the door. She was sitting on Fred's bed, her head in her hands. He watched her for a moment before walking in completely and closing the door behind him. _This isn't a good idea._ Said the voice in his head but he ignored it.

Hermione opened her eyes and looked up. She stood up and waved her hand, trying to use her wandless magic again. George cringed when she was flown backwards over the bed and hit the wall.

"I should have mentioned the protection spells stop you from using any kind of magic." He said.

Hermione groaned in pain and rolled onto her back. George walked over to her and helped her up. Once she was sitting on the bed, she shrugged his hand off her shoulder.

She narrowed her eyes when she saw a smile tug at his lips. "What?" she snapped.

"Nothing. You just look cute in my clothes." he said, looking at the boxers and shirt of his that she was still wearing.

Hermione looked down. She had forgotten. "Not like I have anything else to bloody wear until you give me back my clothes." she said.

George rubbed the back of his neck. "Right. They're probably done drying. I'll be right back."

Hermione watched as he walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. _What the bloody hell is he up to? _She wondered to herself. A few minutes later, George walked back in with her clothes and handed them to her, then left without saying a word. Hermione was, undoubtedly, confused. Looking from the closed door, down to the clothes on her lap, she ran her hand over the folded sweater on top. He had cleaned them. Sighing, she stripped from his clothes and dressed her fresh ones, deciding to leave the sweater off and wear just the jeans and tank top.

She was laying on the bed, her legs hanging off the edge and starring at the ceiling the next time he entered about a half hour later. She looked over at him. He closed the door behind him as he floated a tray of tea, sandwiches, chips and a bowl of something she couldn't see. She watched him as he floated the tray over to the bed, where it hovered beside it.

"Not gonna try to throw me again?" He asked, a small smile playing on his lips.

Hermione sat up but didn't say anything. He sat down on the bed and the tray hovered down to rest on the bed between them as he leaned against the headboard. He grabbed a sandwich and took a bite. Seeing her watching him, he swallowed the food in his mouth.

"It's for you too." He said and began pouring some tea into two cups.

They ate in silence, Hermione giving him curious looks the entire time. Hadn't she tried to hurt him? Why was he doing this? Shouldn't he be angry with her? Hermione was taking a sip of tea when George picked up a washcloth from the bowl, which was full of water, and squeezed the extra water out of it. She pulled back when he reached up.

"You have blood on your forehead." he said and went to wipe away the blood that had appeared when she attempted to throw him. She didn't pull away this time, just watched him, wondering what he was up to.

He gave her a small smile once the blood was gone and the water in the bowl was tinted red from the washcloth. "Done?" he asked, noticing she had stopped eating.

She nodded and he stood up. The tray began to float again as he walked towards the door. He opened it and the tray floated out of the room. Turning back to her, he watched her for a moment. "Get some rest." He said and walked out.

The door was almost closed, when Hermione finally spoke up. "Why are you doing this?"

George looked back at her. "Doing what?"

"Taking care of me." she said, her eyes narrowing.

"I promised you I would." He said and Hermione just starred at him. Just before closing the door, he added; "No matter what."


	8. Cold

**Dead and Gone**

**During the war, Hermione went M.I.A. Everyone thought she was dead and after a few years, everyone moved on. Including Ron. But what happens when she resurfaces, seemingly unharmed?**

**Chapter Eight: Cold**

Hermione lay on the bed starring at the ceiling. He still remembered his promise. Even after three years. After finding out that she tortured souls and like it. After finding out that she empty and broken. After she tried to kill him, Harry and Luna. He still kept true to his promise. _No matter what. _The voice in her head reminded her. Hermione furrowed her brow. Why? She couldn't remember. Closing her eyes, she racked her brain but everything was jumbled and blurry. Suddenly images of what she had done to some of the souls in Hell flashed in her mind's eye and her eyes shot open and she sat up. Licking her lips nervously, she ran her hands through her hair.

Luna was wrong. It doesn't matter if she was an empath or not. Hermione hated what she did to those people. Hated how good it felt to hurt them. And she hated the fact that she missed it. See? She wasn't completely empty. She felt some things. Sighing, she laid back down and starred at the ceiling again.

She felt cold. Not the kind of cold that could be solved with putting on her sweater or climbing under the blankets or turning up the heater. It was the kind of cold that set in when you were lonely. It was the kind of cold that made her crave human touch and she wished more than anything that George was laying beside her. Turning onto her side and curling into a ball, she starred at the door. She imagined George walking and coming to rest beside her. She closed her eyes, knowing it wasn't going to happen.

Ever since her first night here, she had craved his body heat. Even going as far as pretending to cry so he would hold her. Taking a deep breath, she remembered how his fingers felt against her bare skin the night she had come back drunk. He'd been so gentle with her. Afraid she was going to think he was trying to take advantage of her. She also remembered the look in his eyes that he had tried to hide.

Opening her eyes, she furrowed her brow. She reached up and touched her cheek. Looking at her hand, she rubbed her fingers together. Was she…was she crying? _Real_ tears? She wiped furiously at her cheeks and eyes, drying the remaining tears. Sighing, she crawled up next to pillows and under the blankets. She pulled them tight around her, wishing that they were George's arms around her. Realizing that the only time she had felt complete since her return from Hell had been in the arms of one of the people she had tried to kill, she curled into a ball and finally let herself cry some real tears.

* * *

George lay in bed that night, his thoughts flooded with images of the bushy haired girl down the hall from him. She was only a few seconds away and he missed her. He felt cold without her. Since the first night she got here, he hated the way his arms felt empty without her in them. George sighed. He had survived 3 years of not knowing what had happened to her, but he feared he wouldn't survive through the night without holding her. Pushing the covers off, he climbed out of bed and walked down the hallway.

He stood at the door for a few minutes, going over the pros and cons of going in. He could go in and give in to the calling her heat and soft skin and chocolate eyes, or he could turn around now, and lay awake all night, facing the cold loneliness that was settling in his heart. George stood, starring at the white door for what seemed like hours before he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Exhaling slowly, he turned and walked back to his room. Crawling back into bed, he closed his eyes and attempted to sleep, every dream riddled with images of the chocolate eyed beauty just a few feet away.

* * *

Hermione awoke the next morning to the smell of bacon, eggs and coffee. Sitting up she saw the door start to close. "George?"

George poked his head into the room. He starred at her a moment before he smiled. "Morning."

"I was hoping I could take a shower." She said.

"Hmm, hang on." George disappeared and closed the door. When the door opened again a few minutes later, he had his wand with him. "Come on." he said, his eyes nervous. He walked her to the bathroom and showed her where the towels were. "I'll let you know now so you don't get hurt. The same spell that's on Fred's room is on the entire apartment. You try to use magic, well, you know what happens."

Hermione's jaw tightened but she gave a small nod. She watched him walk down the hall and she closed the door. Sighing, she stripped from her clothes and climbed beneath the now running water. She closed her eyes, the warm water running over her skin. She sighed again. The warm water wasn't doing anything to rid her of the cold she'd been feeling all night and woken up with. She had hoped more than anything that he would visit her last night, but he never did. Hermione closed her eyes as heart began to ache again. _What the bloody hell is going on with me? _She thought as more tears fell from her eyes.

By the time she was done, the water had run cold. Stepping out of the shower, she wrapped a towel around herself and starred at herself in the shower. She was pale. Her hair was a dull brown and she had dark circles beneath her eyes. Her skin was mangled with scars and it sickened her. No wonder George didn't go to her last night. She stared at the scars. Who would want something so damaged?

There was a knock on the door and she looked over, expecting the door to open. "Your breakfast is going to get cold." George called and she heard him walk down the hall.

Getting dressed and drying her hair the best she could with the towel, she walked out of the bathroom and to Fred's room. Seeing that her breakfast was gone, she wandered down the hall to the kitchen where George had set it up on the table.

"What are you doing?"

George turned around from his spot at the sink where he was doing dishes. "Figured since you can't use magic, its safe to let you out." He looked at her with a seriousness she had never seen in him before. "Gonna sit down?" he asked as he sat down in front of his plate of food.

She watched him for a moment before he looked over at her and motioned to the empty seat with his fork and saw walked over and sat down. Looking down at the knife, she sat up a bit straighter and glanced over at him. He wasn't looking. She looked back at the knife, then back at George, her eyes dark. Images of her grabbed the knife and attacking him flashed in her head as she watched him. He seemed not to notice, but he watched her through his messy hair as she picked it up and held it. He watched as she starred at it a few moments before picking up her fork and cutting through the eggs. He let out a silent sigh of relief he hadn't known he was holding and they ate in silence, the only sound being the scraping of forks and knives on plates.


	9. Breaking Down

Dead and Gone

**During the war, Hermione went M.I.A. Everyone thought she was dead and after a few years, everyone moved on. Including Ron. But what happens when she resurfaces, seemingly unharmed?**

**Chapter Nine: Breaking Down **

It had been about a week since Hermione had tried to kill George, Harry and Luna and she felt like she was going crazy being locked in the flat with no one to talk to while he was working in the shop. Staring into space, she didn't notice someone apperate into the kitchen. She sat on the window seat staring out over Diagon Alley. She watched people laugh and talk and run around with no fears or worries. Was she supposed to feel for these people? Were they supposed to mean something to her? If they were, she didn't know what or why. A floorboard creaked, pulling her from her thoughts and she looked towards the kitchen, expecting it to be George.

Ron, Ginny and Harry were standing in the door way, their wands raised and aimed towards her. She stared at them. Images of them screaming in pain as she attacked them forced their way into her mind and she did her best to ignore them. She was supposed to care about these people, not want to hurt them. Right? Considering they were aiming their wands at her, she wasn't too sure at the moment, but she pushed the thoughts away anyway.

"Why aren't you locked up?" Ginny asked.

Hermione stared at her. Looking back down at the busy streets, she watched the people. "He trusts me."

"Bullocks. How can anyone trust you after you tried to kill them?" Ron snapped.

Hermione looked at him, her eyes narrowing. "I don't believe I've tried to kill you, Ronald. Of course that can always change."

Harry fought the smile tugging at his lips at the shocked face Ron gave him. He looked like a fish out of water, his mouth opening and closing and no sound coming out. He looked from Hermione's glare to Harry and Ginny as they lowered their wands.

"She's mental is what she is!" Hermione stood up and he aimed his wand at her again. "Watch yourself, Hermione."

"I think you better watch yourself, Ron." Came George's voice from behind them.

Ron, Harry and Ginny turned to see George leaning against the archway of the living room, his arms folded over his chest. "She's the one who threatened me." Ron defended.

"You called her mental."

Ron glared, but lowered his wand. "Why isn't she locked up, anyway?"

"I trust her."

"How can you trust her?"

"How could you marry Lavender Brown?"

"Don't you say anything about Lavender. You know I love her."

"Then don't come into my flat uninvited and aim your wand at Hermione, who by the way, if you had come talk to me first you'd know she can't do magic, and call her mental. You do it again and I'll take the protection spells off and let her have a go at you." George forced back the smile when he saw Hermione straighten up a bit with hope, but he glanced at her over Ron's shoulder and she knew he was just trying to scare Ron.

Ron looked over his shoulder at Hermione, who was watching him, then back to George. Sighing, he put his wand away. "Mum wanted us to tell you she wants you there for supper tonight." he said and apperated back to the Burrow.

George looked past Harry and Ginny to Hermione, who was now staring down at the people in Diagon Alley again. He watched her a moment before he looked at them. He didn't want to leave her alone. "Tell her I might be bringing someone."

Harry and Ginny looked at each other, then behind them at Hermione, who was looking at George. They looked at each other then back at George. "Do you really think that's a good idea?" Ginny asked.

"She needs to be around people if she's going to start feeling again." They gave him a skeptic look. "I trust her."

* * *

George and Hermione stood outside of the Burrow watching as shadows walked around inside. "Alright, I don't want mum to worry, so just…fake it."

"Fake it." Hermione repeated.

George nodded and they walked into the Burrow. George was immediately pulled into a hug by his mother and he hugged her back. "It's about time you visited!" she said. She caught sight of Hermione. "Oh my…Author! Author, come quick!" She called as she let go of George and hugged Hermione.

Hermione stood stiff in Molly's arms and looked at George. What was she supposed to do? She gave him a look and he mouthed 'hug her' and she uncertainly wrapped her arms around the now crying Mrs. Weasley. She looked at George to make sure she was doing it right and he nodded. Author ran in from the living room, his wand raised, followed by Harry, Ron and Ginny.

"Dear lord…Hermione?" He lowered his wand and pulled her into a hug when Mrs. Weasley let her go and she awkwardly hugged him back.

She looked at George, who gave her a thumbs up. When she was released from the hug, she forced a smile, which thankfully, they believed. Mrs. Weasley pulled her into another hug before wiping the tears from her eyes and returning to the kitchen. Mr. Weasley patted her on the shoulder, before smiling and walking into the living room as tears began to fill his eyes. Hermione waited until they were gone before she turned to George.

"What was that about?"

"They just missed you is all. They knew you were back, but I told them you need some time to…adjust before coming to see them."

"Oh. So you told them what happened?"

George nodded.

Hermione sat uncomfortably between Mr. and Mrs. Weasley during supper. The entire time she kept glancing at George, who would give her a smile if she did something right and silently mouth what she should be doing if she was doing something wrong. An hour and multiple faked smiles and forced laughter later, George apperated him and Hermione back to his flat. He collapsed onto the couch, his body growing tired. Hermione leaned against the doorframe and hugged herself. She starred off into space, her brow furrowing.

"What is it?" he asked, looking over at her.

"They care about me." She said.

George nodded. "Always have."

Hermione looked at him. "No, I mean they…_genuinely_…care about me. And they know what I did." She racked her brain trying to find a reason. "I don't understand." she said finally, deciding it was a good idea to leave out the fact that she was thinking of attacking them the entire night.

"What were you expecting? Them to attack you? To throw you out?" George stood up and walked over to her. "Hermione, they love you. It doesn't matter what you do or did. You're always going to have a place here." He said and brushed some hair out of her face.

Hermione stared, obviously thinking. She sighed. "I'm tired." she said and looked at George.

When he didn't say anything, she turned and walked down the hall. George watched her go. Sighing, he rubbed his temples and retreated to his room. Stripping, he climbed beneath his blankets, hoping he would be able to sleep through the night.

That night, the cold was too much for her. After an hour or so of tossing and turning, she threw off the covers and changed from the boxers and shirt George had given her to sleep in, and changed into the only pair of clothes she had. Walking out of her room, she pulled on her sneakers and walked down the hall. Her heart began to beat faster. He had forgotten to lock the bedroom door. Maybe he forgot to lock the flat down. She had to get out; she couldn't stay here anymore. Yes, she was going to miss George, but she knew he cared deeply for his family and Harry. If she stayed, she just knew that one of those thoughts would push themselves through and she'd end up hurting them. She let out a deep breath she hadn't known she was holding when she turned the knob and the door opened without fault.

Taking her first step outside, she jumped a bit, not realizing that it had been raining. Hugging herself she started off down the street, away from Weasley's Wizard Weezes and George's flat. After a few minutes of walking, the hairs on the back of her neck started to stand up. She reached for her wand and mentally slapped herself. She had left it at George's flat. She could always use wandless magic, but it's been a few weeks since she used it and she was worried she might blow up whoever was following her. Worry? She furrowed her brow. Why would she be worried that she might hurt someone? All she'd been wanting to do since she got back was hurt people. Shaking the feeling, she turned around, expecting to see someone following her, but the street was empty. Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly and turned back around. She let out a small gasp when she saw George standing just a couple feet in front of her, the rain soaking his tall form.

"Thought I could trust you, 'Mione." he said. It wasn't a question.

Hermione swallowed but didn't answer. They starred at each for a while, neither saying a word. The rain poured down around them, soaking them to the bone and it didn't take long for Hermione to start shaking from the cold, but she stayed where she was. George finally took a step forward and she panicked. She had meant to send him backwards but something went wrong and his hand raced up to the side of his face. When he lowered his hand, blood dripped from his fingers as the rain mixed with it. She starred at him with wide eyes. A deep gash decorated just below his right eye. She shook her head as tears started to form in her eyes. He looked at her with an unreadable expression and took another step forward. She did the same thing and blood began to seep through his cloth covered shoulder. He continued towards her.

Hermione shook her head again, the tears falling freely. She waved her hands again but nothing happened. He was close enough to grab her now and she began hitting him. He simply stood there with his hands up, trying to catch hers. Finally something snapped and Hermione began sobbing uncontrollably. She continued to pound his chest and shoulders with her fist. Soon she was shouting at him, telling him that she didn't deserve to live. Begging for him to kill her. The sobs rolled through her body and her hitting slowed. She slumped against his chest and he wrapped his arms around as they fell to their knees in the middle of the street. Hermione sobbed against his chest, crying for him to end it.

Closing his eyes, he tightened his arms around her shaking body. George opened his eyes and looked down at her. She had stopped crying, but she was still laying limp in his arms, her eyes red from crying and starring off into the distance. He watched as various emotions raced over her face and more tears began to form in her eyes. Her lip trembled and her grip on his shirt tightened. Squeezing her eyes shut, she buried her face in his chest and whimpered. Tightening his arms around her, he apperated them back into his flat.

George carried her down the hallway to his bedroom and laid her down on the bed. After taking care of her the same way he had when she was drunk and healing himself, he crawled beneath the covers with her and she instantly wrapped her arms around his torso and laid her head on his chest. Wrapping his arms around her, he ran a hand through her hair and left the conversation for the morning.


	10. Breakfast and Tears

**Dead and Gone**

**During the war, Hermione went M.I.A. Everyone thought she was dead and after a few years, everyone moved on. Including Ron. But what happens when she resurfaces, seemingly unharmed?**

**A/N: This is a short chapter. I hope you like it. It's kind of an important chapter. And thank you so much to everyone who has left me reviews. They're the reason I keep writing. :)**

**Chapter Ten: Breakfast and Tears**

George watched Hermione as he piled some scrambled eggs. She starred down at her plate, her face covered in tear stains and her eyes red. He filled his plate and sat down across from her. Leaning back in his chair, he took a bite and continued to watch her. She hadn't said anything since her breakdown in the rain last night and George was getting worried. Something had finally snapped to make her act that way. Taking another bite, he waited to see if she would say anything, but she simply starred at her plate of food.

Sighing, he took a sip of tea. "Are you going to tell me what happened last night?"

After a moment, Hermione's eyes met his. Her heart ached. He was angry with her. She looked back down at her food. She couldn't tell him. She couldn't tell him how she wanted to hurt his family. Could she? He had been understanding so far, even after she tried to kill him. Could she tell him that she wanted to attack his family and he not hate her for it? No. It wasn't possible. He would hate her. Yell at her. Throw her out. She couldn't tell him.

George ate some more of his food and sighed again. "Tell me what happened, Hermione." When she didn't answer or bother to look up, he stood up and was at her side in two long strides. Pushing her chair a bit so she was facing him, he grabbed her shoulders and she let out a small yelp.

"What happened last night?" He asked. She didn't looked at him and he shook her a bit and waited until she looked at him. "What. Happened?" he said, his voice dangerously low. "Why did you want me to kill you?" She still didn't answer him and he shook her again. "Answer me!"

Hermione winced at the sudden rise of anger in his voice and tears welled up in her eyes. "I can't be here." she whispered.

"What do you mean?" he asked, still not letting her go.

"What I…what did to them. What I wanted to do…it hurts…"

George furrowed his brow. "Hermione, kitten, you aren't making sense."

Hermione shook her head slowly and closed her eyes as the tears started falling. "I can't believe I did that…I can't….I can't make it better…" She looked at him with pleading eyes. "Just tell me how to make it better…"

George's eyes widened and he licked his lips nervously. "Hermione, luv, can you…I mean, your emotions, are they…"George took a deep breath. "Can you…feel…again?" he asked carefully.

Hermione's lip trembled and she nodded. She threw her arms around his neck and sobbed into his shoulder. "It hurts. God, it hurts so much. Please George, just kill me. Please, make it stop. Tell me how to make it better. Please, God, it hurts. Please, George, it hurts. It hurts so bad..."

George closed his eyes and swallowed back the tears. Holding her tight against him, he let her cry.

* * *

"This is going to be painful for her." Luna said, starring down at the now sleeping Hermione.

"What is?" George asked. "What's happening to her?"

Luna looked at him with sad eyes. "She's certainly not empty anymore. But she's in pain. A lot of it."

"Why?"

"She can feel again, George. She'll be feeling all the remorse she would have felt while torturing those souls. And the guilt of having all those thoughts. Her path to healing is going to be painful."

"Guilt of what thoughts?" George asked.

Luna frowned. "I think it's best if she told you." The blonde looked back at Hermione's seemingly innocent face. "This could quite literally drive her insane…"


	11. Proving She Still Belongs

**Dead and Gone**

**During the war, Hermione went M.I.A. Everyone thought she was dead and after a few years, everyone moved on. Including Ron. But what happens when she resurfaces, seemingly unharmed?**

**Chapter Eleven: Proving She Still Belongs**

George watched Hermione as she starred down at the busy streets of Diagon Alley. He'd put Ron and Ginny in charge of the store for a few days while he looked after Hermione. She hadn't spoken a word since her second breakdown and he was beginning to worry. Harry and the others had dropped by to see how she was doing, as he had filled them in on everything that happened, but she stayed quiet throughout their entire visit. She wouldn't even look at them. Wouldn't even look at him anymore.

Sighing, he set a sandwich on the window seat beside her and brushed some hair out of her face. "Hermione, kitten, you need to eat."

When she didn't answer or look at him, he sighed again and moved the plate to sit down. He cupped her face and gently turned her head so she was looking at him. "I can't even begin to imagine the emotional toll you're going through right now, Hermione, but you need to eat. You're going to starve to death if you don't."

"I deserve it." Her voice was horse from not being used in a few days.

George shook his head. "No you don't Herms. You really don't. You didn't do anything wrong."

"Didn't do anything wrong? George I tortured souls. I…Your family cares for me and all I could think about at that supper was hurting them."

George stiffened a bit. "But you didn't. You didn't and that's what matters. You fought those urges Hermione. After five years of giving into them, that's a big feat. Hermione, you wanted to give in. I know you did. I could see it in your eyes every time you picked up your knife, but you didn't. That's what matters. You're stronger than this. You can beat this. Do you understand?"

Hermione shook her head lightly. "I can't. It hurts too much."

George pulled her into a hug. "I know, baby. But it will pass. I promise."

Hermione pulled back, tears in her eyes. "Tell me how to make it better." she whispered.

George starred at her for a moment. He'd never seen her in this much pain before. He tucked a lock of brown hair behind her ear. "You just need to live through this, Hermione…"

"I can't…" she started.

"You have to." George interrupted. "You have to." he repeated, mostly for his own benefit.

* * *

"She still isn't eating?" Ron asked, as he, Ginny, Harry and George stood around the back store room of George's shop.

"No. I just got her to talk a few hours ago. And even then, she was basically just repeating how it hurt to live and asked me to tell her how to make it better." George said, leaning against he counter.

"She just needs time, George." Ginny said, rubbing her brother's arm.

"I know. I just…I just wish there was something I could do to help her."

"Ron, Ginny, could I talk to George alone?" Harry asked. They nodded and returned to the store. Once they were gone, he turned George.

"What do you need to talk to me about that they couldn't be in here for?"

"I know how you feel about her, George. I'm not sure if they do, but it's obvious once you know what to look for."

"What are you…"

"Don't try to say you're not in love with her, George. We both know you are." Harry licked his lips nervously. "What ever is happening to her, it will be easier if she knows that she still belongs here."

"I've been telling her that, Harry. She just doesn't believe me."

"Prove it."

"What?"

Harry licked his lips again. "George, you need to PROVE that she still belongs here. That it doesn't matter what she's done or wanted to do."

"How am I supposed to do that?"

"Hey, could we get some help out here?" Ron called into the back room.

"Be right there." Harry said. He turned back to George. "You know how, George."

George ran a hand through his hair. "What if she thinks I'm just trying to take advantage of her?"

"She won't."

"You don't know that."

"Yes I do. George she trusts you. If she didn't, she wouldn't still be here. She's trusting you to save her. And I see the way she looks at you. Even before she could feel everything again. She loves you George."

* * *

That night, George starred at the bathroom door. Behind it, Hermione was taking a shower. Licking his lips, he opened the door and walked in, closing it softly behind him. He could hear soft cries and sniffling through the sounds of the running water. Stripping from his clothes, he opened the shower door and stepped in behind her. She stood in place as he gently traced paths down her shoulders and arms. One of his hands clasped one of hers and his other ran back up her arm and made small circles on her shoulder. He leaned down, placing feather light kisses on her shoulder. She shivered from the light contact and he stepped closer to her, their bodies pressed against one another.

"George…" Hermione whispered.

"Yes, kitten?" he said between kisses.

Hermione turned to face him. "What are you doing?"

"Loving you." he said and kissed the tender flesh of her neck.

"Why?"

George looked her in the eyes. "I love you." He kissed her left cheek. "Always have." He kissed her right cheek. "Always will." He kissed the tip of her nose. "Forever." He brushed his lips against hers. A soft moan escaped her lips when he pulled back a bit as she tried to deepen the kiss. He shook his head lightly. "Not here."

Reaching behind her, he shut off the water and opened the shower door. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her small form, then wrapped one around his waist. Grabbing another towel, he started drying her hair. They starred at each other the entire time, never looking away. Once her hair was mostly dried, he gently kissed her forehead and took one of her hands in his. Walking down the hallway, he led her to his bedroom and closed the door behind them.

"George…"

"Yes, kitten?"

"I love you, too."

George smiled and brushed some hair out of her face. "I know, luv."

Taking her hand again, he led her over to the bed, where she climbed beneath the blankets. George followed. Cupping her face, he pulled her close, pressing his lips to hers. Laying her down, he unwrapped the towel from around her and dropped it on the floor. It was soon followed by his own. Smiling softly down at her, he lay to the side of her, running his calloused fingers over her soft skin. A soft mew fell from her lips and his lips followed the path of burning left by his hand. After making sure she was ready, he positioned himself at her entrance. Kissing her softly, he slowly entered her, letting her get used to his size. She inhale sharply and gripped his shoulders.

"You alright, luv?" He whispered in her ear.

She nodded and arched up into him. Taking her hands in his, he pinned them above her head, letting all his weight rest on her. Pressing his lips against hers in a passionate kiss, he began moving inside her and she moaned into the kiss. After what seemed like forever, he broke the kiss, both in desperate need of air.

"Hermione…"

"Hmm?"

"You're a virgin." He looked at her and she glanced away, then back at him.

"Not anymore." she said, a smile playing on her lips.

Smiling, George let out a soft chuckle. Kissing her, he reached over to the bedside lamp and turned it off. The rest of the night was filled with gasps, moans and giggling.


	12. Thank You

**Dead and Gone**

**During the war, Hermione went M.I.A. Everyone thought she was dead and after a few years, everyone moved on. Including Ron. But what happens when she resurfaces, seemingly unharmed?**

**Chapter Twelve: "Thank You"**

**A/N: This is, as of now, the last chapter and it is quite short. I seem to be out of ideas at the moment. If I come up with anymore for this story, then i will certainly add it. If you've got any ideas that you would like to see, feel free to tell me. Enjoy and don't forget to review :)**

Sighing happily, Hermione wrapped her arms around the warm body beside her. The coldness she had been feeling for so long was finally gone. Opening her eyes, she watched her lover sleep peacefully, a small smile on his lips. The corners of her mouth twisted into a smile. The only real smile she's had since her return. Sighing happily, she untangled herself and wrapped the towel around herself. Going back to the bathroom, she dressed in the boxers and shirt she had grown accustomed to wearing, and padded down the hall to the kitchen.

She opened the fridge, looking for something to make. Deciding on pancakes, eggs and bacon, she began preparing everything, including tea. She was just about done with the eggs, when she felt two strong arms wrap themselves around her waist and a pair of lips on her neck and shoulder. She smiled and closed her eyes, enjoying his soft touches.

"'bout time you woke up." She smiled.

A chill over her body as he chuckled softly against the tender flesh of her neck. "I was having a good dream." he mumbled, pressing a soft kiss just behind her ear.

She moaned and leaned into him. "Is that so?" She felt him nod as he sucked and nibbled on her neck. "Care to share?" she asked, setting aside the pan of eggs.

George turned her around and she ran her hands up his bare chest and to his shoulders, to link together behind his neck. He ducked down, kissing her neck and pulled her closer. "I'd rather show you." He whispered, picking her up and setting her down on the counter and continued to maul her, neither one of them hearing the soft 'pop' in the next room.

* * *

"Had they already eaten?" Mrs. Weasley asked Ron as he walked in from the living room.

"Um…they were…busy." He mumbled and walked towards the stairs.

"Are you alright, dear?" She asked, noticing his paler than normal skin.

Ron shook his head and walked up the stairs without another word. Harry and Ginny glanced at each other, knowing smiles on their lips.

* * *

"I'm pretty sure breakfast is no good now." Hermione said, wiping some hair from her sweaty face.

George chuckled. "Well, it doesn't matter as we don't have anymore syrup for the pancakes." he smirked, looking at the empty bottle of syrup laying just a few feet away.

Hermione giggled and wrapped her arms around George's torso. "How about we jump in the shower? I'm starting to stick to the floor."

George smiled and stood up. "Might want to be careful, luv."

"With what?" She wondered, furrowing her brow.

"Jumping in the shower. You could slip if you're not careful." He said, placing a quick kiss on the tip of her nose and running down the hallway, Hermione hot on his heels.

* * *

"George?" Hermione asked a few hours later as they lay in bed.

"Yes, Kitten?" George asked, his arms draped around her.

"Thank you."

George looked down at her, brushing some hair from her face. "For what, luv?"

Hermione smiled softly at him and brushed her lips against his. "Saving me."


End file.
